Vacation
by crescentrolls
Summary: Based after the events of Failsafe. Batman realizes the danger that he's put Robin in with the team and does what Batman does best - pushes his partner and ward too far. Given an M warning for violence, language, and potential sexuality in later chapters
1. Space

"You were in a coma, Robin."

"For 20 minutes! That's just a nap."

"This isn't a joking matter. You're coming back to the Batcave, _now._ " Batman fixed Robin with the glare he saved for likes of Joker. Unfortunately, Dick had grown up with that glare.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Not up for debate," Batman tapped in his authorization code for the cave. He didn't wait around for Robin to follow, because the threat of him firing Robin was still fresh in the boy's mind. He heard the barely audible sound of feet dragging behind him.

"Recognized Batman, 0-2, Robin B-0-1."

Robin rounded on Batman as soon as they were in the cave. He ripped off his mask to glare at his father. However, Bruce had already left his ward in the dust. He was stripping out of the suit, littering the floor of the cave with various bits of the suit.

"Bruce!" He shouted, his frustration seeping through his usually calm demeanor. "God! Would you just listen to me!? I don't want to be coddled any more. You need to start trusting me. You should have told us about the training more, so we would have known what to expect. That way you wouldn't be pissed _at me_ when your plan goes bad!"

Bruce went quiet as he finished removing the last of his suit. He turned to his ward, his eyes set in grim determination. Dick licked his lips nervously as Bruce glared down at him.

"It's not _you_ I don't trust, it's the others. Miss Martian has powers that even her own uncle doesn't know about. She's dangerous," His eyes flashed as Dick opened his mouth to defend his friend. "and we're damned lucky that she's on our side. Tonight's little… episode only proved that my fears were correct. I've always told you to keep them at an arms-length. I have back up plans in case any leaguers go AWOL. I have backup plans if those back up plans fail but the only way that _any_ of those plans work is if we know their weaknesses –"

"Fire stops the Martians no matter what!" Dick interrupted.

"Yes, it does. But Miss Martian has proven herself capable of _significant_ psychic powers. Who's to stay that she simply couldn't block the fire with her own telekinesis?"

"She's not Zatanna, Bruce. She can only manipulate people with her mind."

"That's exactly the problem. She could take control of you and use you to extinguish the flames. It's simply too dangerous, Dick. You're quitting Young Justice. Effective immediately."

" _What!?_ _ **No!"**_ Dick shouted, flinging his domino mask to the floor. "You can't make me quit."

"Then you're fired."

Dick realized he kicked Bruce in the back of the head _after_ he landed to the right of him. Bruce dropped to the ground, swinging his left leg in a wide arc on the floor. Dick's legs were kicked out from underneath him, sending him to the floor. He caught himself in a backbend and jumped up, throwing a fist towards Bruce's unprotected face. The billionaire blocked Dick's punches easily, dodging as the youth swung with all his might.

"Enough," Bruce growled, twisting around and placing Dick in a headlock. "You're too violatile. From this moment on," he loosened his grip a bit. "You are fired, and banned from any patrols or access to the Batcave or any of your vehicles, equipment. You will only have access to Wayne manor."

Dick twisted out of Bruce's grip with an angry grunt. He glared up at his mentor with a rage he had never felt in his life before. He reached up to his shoulders, unclipping his cape and throwing it to the floor. Without another word to Bruce, he left the cave. The short elevator ride back to the study wasn't near long enough for the young ward to cool off. He stomped through the study and up the wooden grand staircase to his room. The old butler peeked out from the kitchen just as Bruce emerged from the study.

"Sir?"

"Dick probably won't be joining me for dinner," He rubbed the back of his neck.

"And why is that?"

"Because I just fired Robin."

"I see," Alfred turned to go back to the kitchen. "Because it makes perfect sense to stop doing the one thing that wears Master Dick out," He grumbled as he returned to the kitchen.

Bruce scowled at his old friend. He didn't expect Alfred to understand his reasoning, but he also didn't feel like placating the both of them. As Bruce passed Dick's room, the door slammed shut so fiercely that the priceless paintings on the wall shuddered.

The boy ran to his shower, slamming the door to the bathroom as well. He collapsed to the floor in a puddle of frustration and began raking his fingers through his thick, black, hair as he thought of his options. He could possibly sneak down into the cave and wait – for how long he had no idea – for batman to go out onto patrol. His hacking skills were still new and untested; but he bet that he could take a crack at the Batcave's operating system. Bruce had been stupid for teaching him how to hack on that mainframe in particular. Slowly, the young boy rose to his feet and turned on the shower to a nice, chilly temperature. Even after four years of living with Bruce, he still craved the cold waters he bathed in while he was still a Flying Grayson in Haly's Circus. Old habits die hard, Alfred had said. As he stepped under the spray, angry tears finally broke through. Dick slumped to the floor once again. Batman needed Robin! Before Robin, the Dark Knight was exactly that – _dark._ Dick wasn't a fool. He had seen the various news reports that showed just how brutal the Batman had been – branding criminals, leaving them hanging from the Washington Street Bridge, and interrogating them 40 stories above the ground in mid-air. All of those actions screamed recklessness, screamed irresponsibility. Robin made Batman human. (Well, as human as one could be in Gotham City).

But the worst part was that Bruce still treated him like a child. No matter how many times he faced off against Two Face, Joker, Penguin, or Mr. Freeze, no one took him seriously. Not Bruce, not batman, not even his own team. He'd been fighting crime longer than anyone on the team had been – but he was still the youngest. Dick swallowed. He needed to leave Gotham. Maybe Batman was on to something. Dick needed to fight crime somewhere else. He turned off the shower, grabbing one of the plush towels that hung from the brass bar. He wouldn't wear the pajamas Bruce had given him tonight – no, he wanted to wear John Grayson's old shirt and a pair of boxers. Dick settled into the plush bed.


	2. Welcome Back

When Dick went downstairs for breakfast, he brought two suitcases. He placed the black leather bags at the foot of the staircase and walked into the broad chest of his mentor. Peeling himself off of the pressed suit carefully, he looked up into the wary blue gray eyes.

"Going somewhere?"

"That's what packed bags usually mean, yes," He snapped, stepping out of Bruce's reach.

"Where?"

"I was hoping I could talk to you about that at breakfast."

"It's time for me to go in," Bruce muttered, but Dick ignored him, heading for the dining room where Alfred stood sentry.

"Good morning, Master Dick! I trust you slept alright last night?"

"I did. How are you?" He asked as he slid into the chair next to the fireplace. Alfred poured the young boy a cup of coffee – just to irritate the eldest master about his situation.

"I'm quite alright. Pancakes, sir?"

The butler thought that Dick's head would fall off from all his ferocious nodding. He left his two sons in the dining room, finally giving Dick the quiet he needed to talk to Bruce.

"I'm going to move out for a bit. I'm calling Jack Haly today. I just need a break from Young Justice, JLA, _you,_ and Gotham. I don't know how long I'll be gone. But I promise you, Bruce, that I will contact you every month."

Bruce raised a finely maintained eyebrow at Dick.

"You want to go back to the circus?"

"It's the only place that I can get away from all of … this," Dick waved his hand at the expanse of the manor. "It probably won't be for much longer than a year, year and a half. Tell the school and the press that I'm pursing education in Sweden."

"Do you want to use my Jet?" Bruce's voice was thick with… _was that emotion?_

"If I'm going to be independent, I need to use my own means."

"Dick, really, I don't mind. You would have to wait to leave – a few hours at most. I won't contact you," Dick could see how hard it was for Bruce to say that "Until you contact me. Whenever you're ready to come home, let me know and I'll come."

He sighed, looking up at his mentor. Dick wouldn't call him father, not yet. But after all Bruce had done for him, it was beginning to get hard not to. Alfred entered the room with a stoic face and a plateful of pancakes. Dick would be stupid if he thought Alfred hadn't been listening in.

"Okay," Dick conceded as the plate was placed in front of him. "That's okay. I'm sorry, Bruce. This is just what I need to do."

The billionaire nodded. He stood slowly as if he didn't trust himself to do anything else. Bruce pulled his phone out, calling the Wayne Division at Gotham International Airport.

"Morning, Susie," His blue grey gaze fell on Dick. "I've been better. I need the Wayne jet prepped for international travel. Where – Give me a moment,"

"Paris. Haly's is in Paris." Dick informed him.

"Paris. Then I need a car to pick up Dick Grayson from the jet and take him to Haly's circus." Bruce's voice was beginning to get that gruff edge whenever he was frustrated. "Thanks, Susie."

"Thank you, Bruce. I promise I'll come home."

Bruce pursed his lips together, then left the room without another word.

Dick dove into his pancakes – still devouring them faster normal people would, but with less gusto. He would have liked Bruce to wish him good luck, safe travels, all the quiet ways one person says I love you without outright saying it. Alfred placed a hand on Dick's small shoulder.

"He does want you to be happy, and he does love you. But Master Bruce has always had issues with emotions. Please don't stay away too long. You've brought a brightness to this manor that it hasn't seen in years."

"I'm not doing this to hurt anyone, Alfred. I just… I need to remember who I am outside of crime fighting."

The old butler hemmed, clearing away the plate. The front door slammed shut and Dick nearly jumped out of his skin. He thought Bruce had already left. Dick steeled his nerves and left the kitchen to get his bags. Alfred soon appeared in the foyer with the keys to the Bentley, and Dick left Wayne Manor for who knew how long. Pulling a page from Bruce's book Dick swallowed back his emotions and steeled his nerves.

He called Jack on the 45-minute drive to the airport. Jack had been pleased to hear from the young acrobat, and promised him a tryout. If Jack didn't like the performance, Dick could help with other aspects of the circus – which was perfectly okay with him. At this point, any environment where he wasn't Dick Grayson, the ward of Bruce Wayne- was a welcome environment. Alfred tried making small talk, but after the first 20 minutes he finally quieted. Bruce still hadn't called, but both the butler and the ward barely expected a call. They pulled onto the tarmac and Dick finally realized the weight of what he was about to do.

"Alfred, please – _please_ make sure he doesn't…. get too reckless. If he gets seriously hurt call me. I'll come as fast as I can."

"Might it be easier for you stay, Master Dick?" He asked.

"I just need to get away. I will come home, Alfie, and I _will_ call."

"Very well, Master Dick," That was Alfred for _Why do I bother?_

He parked the car next to the idling jet, opening the door for Dick. He hugged Alfred tight and then grabbed his bags and hurried onto the jet. He strapped himself into the plush, beige leather seat as Alfred drove away. The pilot was talking on the intercom about the time they would arrive – but Dick wasn't listening. The jet taxied onto the runway, then it was racing past them as the jet's nose lifted towards the sky. Gotham City glittered below them, the skyscrapers reaching towards Dick like starved hands.

As the Atlantic passed beneath him, Dick fell asleep.

He woke up in Paris, just after the plane had landed. A sleek, black Mercedes SLS AMG was parked on the tarmac, no doubt to take him to the circus. He disembarked as soon as he could and nearly ran to the car. The circus was so close! He couldn't wait to see Jack again. Dick was so excited about seeing his old family that he didn't even pay attention to Paris – that is, until Haly's big top came into the car's view. Dick nearly jumped out of the car window.

"Zitka!?" He yelped, causing the driver to jump. "Oh, sorry."

"It's fine, Mr. Grayson. Where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Front of the big top is fine. Thanks!" Dick was staring at the elephant with wide eyes. He knew elephants lived long lives, but still!

The car coasted to a smooth stop – and Dick was already running, bags in hand, towards the familiar fat, mustachioed, man standing at the entrance.

"Dick Grayson!" Jack shouted, opening his arms wide.

"Jack!" He dropped his bags right as he crashed into the circus manager, hugging him tight.

"How ya doin', son? Gotham looks like it's treatin' you well."

"It has been. But I needed a break. How've you been?" Dick leaned back to get a look at him. Haly had aged since they last met, with a few wrinkles to prove it. He was still a fat, jolly, man with a mustache so thick it nearly hid his entire mouth.

"Good. We brought Zitka for this tour. Have to say that the acrobats we've hired haven't measured up to the Grayson's. Everyone is excited to see you again – but after you try out."

Dick laughed, leaning down to pick up his bags. "Okay, message received loud and clear. Let's get these bags into the tent and then I'll start."

"I think someone wants to help you," Jack nodded behind Dick. He turned, finding his old friend Zitka running towards him.

"Zitka!" He yelped as a thick trunk wrapped around his waist and lifted him up. "Hiya old girl. Yeah, I missed you too. What have you been doing?"

The elephant trumpeted, rattling Dick. He laughed as he ran his hands over the familiar trunk. He had missed her, Jack, and the rest of the circus. Haly led the way into the big top, with Zitka carrying Dick securely. The elephant placed him by the ladder to the platform. He patted Zitka once more for luck, then began the climb to the top.

Dick looked down at the sawdust covered floor. The trapeze was laying on the holding bar, waiting for Richard Grayson. He placed his hands in the bowl of chalk dust and clapped and rubbed his hands together in preparation. While he had kept up his acrobatic exercises at Bruce's, the bars still weren't high enough compared to the big top. He swallowed, praying to his guardian angels and his parents. He _would_ get to perform again.

The trapeze tilted left then right in his hand and he jumped. Muscle memory – that's all it took. As he swung forward, he rotated his hips up and pushed his legs forward to help build momentum. Then just as he was about to hit the high point of the arc he pushed all of his weight through his lips and legs, switching the momentum from forward to backward in the blink of an eye. He knew when he had to pull his weight up so he didn't crash into the platform. Two more swings of building momentum, then all he had to do was fly towards the other bar. Dick swung forward and let go. He flew towards the other bar, deftly catching it and building momentum that he lost on the fly. Dick flipped and twirled in the air as if he had never left, and after ten minutes of causing Haly to gasp and murmur in approval, he deftly landed on the platform and released the bar. Dick descended, taking the towel that Zitka had brought him.

"After all these years, you've still got it!" Haly clapped Dick on the shoulder. "God, you fly just like your old man and flip like your mother. Dick Grayson, welcome back to the big top."

"Hah, you think?" Dick rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll admit that it's been a while since I've been in a big top. But thanks, Mr. Haly."

"Dick, call me Jack. Follow me."

"Where are we going?" He followed the old manager through the circus grounds, breathing in the comforting scent of sawdust and popcorn.

"I kept your trailer. We've been using it for costume storage but we can find someplace else to put those costume. Would that work?"

The painted silhouettes of his mother, father and himself covered the left side of the trailer. Even the old gas lamp that dangled from the overhang on the end was there. Dick walked up the steps slowly, running his hand over the familiar handrails.

"I thought you would've destroyed this old thing by now. I'll take it. Thanks, Jack," Dick turned, holding his hand out to his old friend. "Where do you want me to put the costumes?"

"I'll send Fred over to help you. Dinner's at 8. Zitka!" Jack turned around as the elephant hurried back to the old manager.

Dick entered the trailer, looking around at the racks of costumes and back up costumes. While all the beds were gone, the photos that his mother had posted were still hanging on the walls. He found an old photo of himself and his parents that he had completely forgotten about. Dick was just a baby, cradled in his father's arms while his mother reached over, one finger extended to tickle him, or clean something off his face. He removed the frame from the wall and carefully peeled the picture out.

It was good to be home.


	3. Phone Call

The circus moved from Paris, to Berlin, to Madrid, and then to Brussels. Dick called Bruce the last day they were in Brussels. He was laying in his father's old bed, staring up at the dusty rafters as the phone rang.

"Wayne Industries, this is Effie speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"Hi Effie. I need to speak with Bruce Wayne," Dick hummed as he stretched his right calf.

"He's in a meeting. May I take a message?"

"It's his son, Dick."

"Oh! My word! Give me a moment," She squeaked and mere seconds later, Bruce's voice was growling in his ear.

"Dick," Bruce growled, not unhappily. "How's the circus?"

"Hiya B. It's good. Did I call at a bad time?"

"No. Not at all. I heard Haly took you back with no hesitation. All good performances too, from what I'm seeing."

Dick laughed. "I should have figured you'd have a snitch here. But it's good. We're heading to Russia in the morning. I think… yeah, it's Moscow. How's everything going?"

"Good. Stocks went down a bit when you first left, but after I released the bit about you studying in Sweden and it went fine. Gotham's still Gotham. Did I tell you I caught a kid stealing my car's tires?"

"The other car?" Dick sat up.

"Yes. Hang on a moment, Dick – _Get out of the room. We'll continue this later,"_ Dick recognized that tone of voice. He winced for whomever just received the full force of the batglare.

"He reminds me of you, Dick. He's smart, quick, but he has my temper. I, uh, started training him. He hasn't been released to the field yet. At this rate, he probably won't go out till a few months. But he has a lot of potential. His name is Jason Todd."

"… Good. Batman needs Robin."

"Dick… I'm not trying –"

He cut him off. "Bruce, it's okay. From what I read, you got a little… dark, when I left. I guess the only thing is; are _you_ happy?" _Please tell me if you aren't. I don't want to come back, not yet. But I can't let you suffer by yourself._

"I'm getting there." _Kiddo, I've been suffering since you left. I need you. Jason is_ not _you. But I'm getting better._

"Good. I have to go practice, Bruce. But I'll give you a call in a few weeks, okay? And," He swallowed as he braced himself. "I want to talk to Jason. Just remember to take it easy on him, okay? He's just a kid."

"…Take care of yourself, Dick."

"Love you too, Bruce."

They both lingered on the line, wanting to ask a million more questions and unable to ask them at all. This was how it had always been with them. Dick, open and affectionate and burning with the passion of a dozen stars and Bruce, cold and distant but all-encompassing and secure like the space that held them together. Finally, Bruce huffed.

"I'm paying the phone bills, not you."

"I think we can afford it." Dick laughed, sitting up.

"Brat," Bruce muttered, but his voice was gentle.

"Bye, Bruce. Take care of yourself, and Jason and Alfred, too."

There was a soft grumble, and the line went dead. Dick got to his feet, his fingers running over the old, worn frame of his mother and father softly.

"He does care, you two. He's just not the best with emotions. Keep me safe while I practice?" He asked them, giving them one last glance before he left the trailer.

The circus had stomped paths into the grass in the field they were currently using, and Dick followed the sloping path to the elephant paddock. Zitka was rolling around in the mud, trumpeting happily as one of the roustabouts tried to clean her. He was a newer roustabout who had just joined on this Europe Tour, so of course Zitka was paying him no mind. Dick laughed as he approached.

"She's playing with you," He muttered, keeping himself ready for a happily stampeding elephant in case she heard his voice.

"I know," Ralph the Roustabout grumbled. "Pop Haly told me to clean her off. I think he's mad about me breaking one of the barrels last night."

"Probably. You might wanna stand back for this," He warned, then cupped his hands around his mouth. "SOO-EEEE." Dick yelled.

Zitka rolled onto her side, her ears and eyes flying over the clearing in search of Dick. Once she spotted her old friend she lumbered to her feet and broke into a trot, swinging her trunk as she approached. Ralph was standing behind Dick, his eyes wide.

"Isn't that how they call pigs?"

"Don't tell her that," Dick winked as a trunk extended the last seven feet to him.

He petted the trunk, grinning at his old friend. Zitka's eyes narrowed on the burly man cowering behind her friend, and let loose an unhappy snort.

"Be nice to Ralph, Zitka. Be nice to Ralph, he wants to help you smell as pretty as you look," Dick cooed as her trunk wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, pretty young thing like you? You deserve to smell the best. So let Ralph wash that mud off with some good old soap and water. After the show you can roll in all the mud you want, okay?"

She squeezed Dick gently.

"Okay. That's my girl." He felt her trunk slide off of him. He turned to Ralph, who was gaping.

"Grayson, I will never understand how you are the most charismatic son of a bitch in the world."

"I blame my parents," _All of them._

Ralph laughed, shooing the acrobat away. The sound of the hose filled the air as Dick headed towards the big top. The birds were singing overhead in the clear blue sky and for the first time in a long time, Dick felt at peace. He was so busy looking up at the sky that he nearly crashed into Drina. The young fortune teller pushed her thick, black, wavy hair from her face as she looked at Dick.

"You Graysons alvays leave your heads in ze big top. Makes eet harder for those ov us to valk through camp."

Dick winked as he linked his arm through hers. "We leave our heads up there so we can grab them during the show, Drina. What are you up to?"

"Pop Haly told me that you vould be practicing soon. I vant to see you practice."

"Is Tsura still giving you trouble?"

"Yes."

"You know, you could always talk to Pop about moving trailers," Dick tilted his head down to get a better look at her. "I wouldn't be opposed to giving you the trailer I was supposed to have before the murder."

"Does Pop Haly still have this trailer?"

Dick shrugged as they finally made it to the big top. "As far as I know he does. But I don't know how much longer I'm gonna stay with Haly's. This has been nice… but I miss my home. I miss my dad."

"Haly is your father, too." Drina murmured, her hand gripping Dick's forearm. "Do not forget about your other family, Grayson. Now, go practice before Pop Haly valks in."

The aerialist winked at the fortune teller, and climbed the ladder to start his practice for the day. With Bruce's conversation fresh in his mind, he gripped the bar and swung out over the sawdust covered floor.


End file.
